


The Prayer

by TheShyArtisan



Category: God of War (Video Games)
Genre: Comfort Fic Written by the Author for the Author, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Extremely Vague Writer Insert, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Other: See Story Notes, References to Illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:28:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25361638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheShyArtisan/pseuds/TheShyArtisan
Summary: Even in the depths of sleep, lost in the tormenting grip of his nightmares, Kratos still heard the prayers of the mortals.(see story notes inside).
Comments: 6
Kudos: 30





	The Prayer

Even in the depths of sleep, lost in the tormenting grip of his nightmares, Kratos still heard the prayers of the mortals. They floated to the very peak of Mount Olympus on warm summer winds, carried on the feathers of the Skyfather’s eagles and left at the thrones of the gods, where they waited to be answered. The Spartan had trained himself to ignore the begging, but tonight, amongst the calls for power and glory, came a voice. Soft, pleading...

_Scared._

" _Please, please someone... please..._ "

Its urgency tugged at something deep in his chest and he felt compelled to respond. Forgoing the comfort of his bed and the warmth of the hand-maidens at his side, Kratos slipped away from his sleeping chambers and disappeared into the darkness of his throne room. There at the base of his lofty perch, the scrying pond glowed faintly, its golden waters rippling with the unanswered prayers of his worshipers. The God of War stalked along its edge and looked in, peering closely at the waves: the pond was full of the voices of men who asked for his strength and courage in battle.

He sneered and dampened their requests with a wave of his hand, stilling the currents. _Pathetic_ , he thought, looking deeper into the waters. In the quiet he strained to discern where the softer voice rose from.

 _There_.

The pond shimmered and then cleared, revealing the image of a young woman laying curled on a healer's cot, bundled in blankets and shivering. Kratos squinted in confusion, why would anyone pray to a War God to alleviate an illness? He was no healer, she was better off praying to Asclepius for help. He raised his hand, preparing to wipe the vision away when the woman's mouth moved again, forcing her words breathlessly through trembling lips.

" _Please, I don't want to be alone... I don't want to die..._ "

_Oh._

Kratos watched in silence as another woman appeared in the image, dressed in light colored robes and carrying a cup. The healer --he assumed she was the healer-- knelt beside the cot and pressed the small cup into the other woman's hands. She helped her sit up and drink, whispered a few encouraging words, and then disappeared from view.

The woman, now left alone, slumped back down onto the cot, her face twisting into a mask of pain and fear. Her hands shook, grasping at her chest, and Kratos felt that all too familiar tug from deep inside again. He realized with a pang that her plight reminded him of the sleepless nights he spent by Calliope's side, nights when she was plagued by fever and cried out for comfort.

The woman in the vision was no different: she may have not prayed to him _directly_ , but here she was crying out for someone to console her. He just happened to be the first to respond, even if it was out of curiosity.

Kratos knelt by the water's edge and reached in, lightly skimming his fingers across its surface. The woman stilled as if in reaction to his touch and he could see the tension in her body slightly abating.

" _I'm scared,_ " she whispered.

 _I know,_ he replied softly.

She was silent for a moment, appearing to ponder which god had answered her, but her confusion quickly melted away and she spoke once more.

" _Please don't leave._ "

_I won't._

Soothed by the rumbled answer and comforted by the odd presence at her side, the woman’s eyes eventually closed. She drifted off to sleep under the God of War's gaze who --true to his word-- kept vigil at the scrying pond.

By the time dawn had begun to kiss the skies surrounding Olympus, the hand-maidens found Kratos asleep next to the basin, his hand trailing in the gently lapping waves, the woman in the image reaching out as if to grasp his fingers.

**Author's Note:**

> i recently had a medical emergency and have been in and out of numerous doctors' offices this past week. i was diagnosed with pericarditis, meaning the protective membrane around my heart is inflamed and filled with fluid (not sure how much, need to have an echo done to see what is there and what to do next). it leaves me with a constant burning pain in my chest and makes it hard to breathe. i wrote this ficlet as a form of self comfort and to keep my mind off my diagnosis.


End file.
